


Rose, Free-Falling Through My Hearts

by jer832



Series: Let Me Count the Ways [3]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: "Let Me Count the Ways", Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fix-It, Humor, Light Angst, Missing Scene, Romance, Season/Series 01, Stand Alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-25
Updated: 2014-07-25
Packaged: 2018-02-10 10:11:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2021124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jer832/pseuds/jer832
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His knee wiggled under her skirt, insinuated itself between her thighs, and pushed her up onto her toes in playful suggestion. Rose steadied herself, palms against the viewing window, and pressed back against him, answering him with parted legs. She grinned, certain that the hum of the sonic screwdriver meant some surveillance cameras had just gone down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rose, Free-Falling Through My Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> I contributed this stand-alone story to "Let Me Count the Ways", a Series 1 rewrite in which the Doctor and Rose are lovers. This is episode 7, "The Long Game"; recognizable dialog and situations are from "The Long Game" by Russell T. Davies.
> 
> The entire series is on [TEASPOON](http://www.whofic.com/viewuser.php?uid=20997) (authored by LMCTW) and was posted originally at [BWR](http://bad-wolf-rising.livejournal.com/tag/let%20me%20count%20the%20ways), an ADULT comm with explicit material.

 

 

* * *

 

 

With the TARDIS safely parked inside the vortex, the Doctor turned from the console and loped down to join Rose, who leant against their front door with her arms folded across her chest and her legs crossed at the ankles, perhaps mimicking him unconsciously. Rose wore a delightfully bemused expression that he longed to kiss off her face. But with her pretty Adam aboard things might be very different now for Rose and him. Or they might not. Maybe he should have kept that Dalek around for relationship advice.

For a minute or so the Doctor and Rose leant against the door, ankles crossed, arms crossed, elbow to elbow, looking down at the young man sprawled unconscious at their feet.

"He's your boyfriend."

"Now be fair, Doctor; look at it from Adam's point of view."

"Passed out on the floor of the TARDIS? Nope, not getting me down there on the cold uncomfortable grating unless something needs to be fixed."

"Oi! The TARDIS is really alien-lookin', and it's got this whole bigger on the inside thing going for it. So of course someone just walking in is gonna think 'COR! ALIENS ARE REAL' an' get kinda scared or unconscious–"

"You didn't. Besides, he's used to working with alien stuff."

"–or really really excited, and breathless even; more so when he realizes he's met a real honest to Star Trek alien!"

The Doctor looked down at Rose curiously. "You're working real hard at defending your boyfriend."

"Adam isn't my boyfriend; he's just–"

"Your latest pretty boy pick up. So get on with it, Rose."

"Wha?"

"Can't leave him lying here, and I'm not gonna hoist him–not gonna risk hurting my back. Adam is yours to pick up, again." He grinned. "Don't drop him on anything important."

With that the Doctor left the control room.

Rose studied the unconscious bloke. His nose and ears looked a bit insufficient for his head. There were no worry lines in his forehead; neither were there laugh lines dancing at the corners of his eyes. She knelt and looked at Adam some more. He was maybe a little older than she and really cute. His hair had been styled and his well-tailored clothes looked expensive. Rose guessed he came from a rich family, at least from a family better off than hers, which was just about everyone outside a Council Estate. He was everything Rose remembered about the University men who shopped at Henricks… everything the other shop girls (as well as a couple of managers) had let her know was totally out of her league.

Adam was also still unconscious, and that was a bit silly for someone who, as the Doctor had pointed out, worked with alien tech daily–though to be fair, he had just escaped from a crazed Dalek and an even more crazed employer. She gave his soft stubble-free cheeks some gentle slaps. "Adam, c'mon, wake up."

 

 ~ 

 

Out of careless habit Rose zigzagged through their bedroom to the en suite, picking the Doctor's jacket, jumper, and denims off the floor, folding and dropping them over his big leather reading chair. "Doctor, Adam's in the second room of the third left after the first sharp right past the bins. Th' TARDIS told me– What happened?!"

The Doctor was leaning on the sink as if the solidity and strength of its pegmatite base was the only thing keeping him standing. His head hung forward, his chin needing his chest the way his arms needed the sink. He was covered with bruises, there were welts and burns across his torso, and blood seeped from rings of ugly purple around his wrists and a deep long gash in his left bicep. His whole body was shaking. Rose ran to him. She unlocked his elbows and carefully backed him away from the sink, needing to take a significant amount of his weight on herself to move him. She gentled him into a chair and he smiled up at her weakly. She carefully washed him with an herbal cleanser that was anti-bacterial and soothingly restorative, and dried him with the softest towel she could find. Using the sonic screwdriver, she mended his flesh and skin just the way he'd taught her. Then she took him to their bed and tenderly, lovingly, she began to mend his aching spirit, just the way she'd learned he needed.

 

~

 

"He's your boyfriend."

"Not anymore."

Earth preened before them–beautiful, jewel-toned, enchanting, awesome against the star-dappled black of space. The Doctor and Rose stood side by side at the viewing window of the space station, watching her in reverence. Adam missed it all. Adam was passed out. Seemed to be a _thing_ with him.

Rose's lover's eyes rested on her. His eyes could see more than human eyes and say more than his mouth. Rose felt caught out, naked–and not in the good way. "He isn't my boyfriend and I never thought of him being like that when I asked you to take him along. He just… I felt sorry for him."

"Rose Tyler, picking up stray kitties and giving them the milk of human kindness." He chuckled. "And?"

What had the Doctor sussed out? Rose wasn't about to admit to her barmy idea to use Adam to spice things up between them–she'd dropped that as soon as she'd realized that if they put any more spice into their relationship, the Doctor would have them shagging while hanging off the TARDIS's beacon. She wanted to tell him she thought he was a wonderful role model an' being around him could help Adam become a better person, but it was a toss-up whether he'd go all wild and dark on her or just get a bigger head and those thoughts took her straight to the precipice of brain-melting desire, the one she always seemed to find herself teetering over whenever she was with the Doctor. Or thought about the Doctor. Or was to any extent awake, alert and not preoccupied with running for her life, unless she was with the Doctor or thinking about him. Or dreaming about him. She could keep playing their games, with words unspoken, or face facts: the Doctor was everything she wanted, everything she needed.

He had made her a better person–still did, every moment she was with him. He could make anyone he met a better person, just because of who he was. This life was fantastic and exciting, but it was just the icing. She didn't want to live without the Doctor, she was never going to leave him. Not willingly; he'd have to be the one to say good-bye. The thought of being left, or worse losing him, was scarier than a cellar full of Gelth.

She was finally ready to let the chips fall where they may. (Or had they already fallen, back somewhere with her first pair of knickers?) She would tell him how much she loved him as soon as they were alone. And he was super-glued down to the bedroom floor. On his back.

"…Rose Tyler, cleared for landing on Satellite Five."

Rose looked up and the Doctor was smiling down at her, his laughing eyes one of the miracles of creation. "I knew a lot of blokes like him, Doctor. I mean, I waited on them in Henricks all the time. They treated me nice," she mused, "better than their girlfriends did, actually, better'n my own… One or two even asked me for my phone number, but–"

"Ah. The fabled Jackie Tyler slap."

"No. It never went that far. One bloke and I met a couple of times for lunch, nothing more. He never met Mum. There wasn't anyone else after that, 'cept for Mickey." Looking down at the sapphire, emerald, diamond, and amber gem of a planet she'd once thought of as home, Rose wrapped her arms around herself a little tighter, maybe a little protectively. "The estate is as alien to blokes like that," she said softly, "as the TARDIS is to Adam."

The Doctor's eyes fixed on Rose for a moment, studying her the way she studied the disk of Earth before them. He moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her, covering hers. "But not to you, Rose Tyler, not from the moment you first saw her. The TARDIS is your home as long as you want her to be, as long as you want us, because I–" The Doctor kissed Rose's temple, ready to be brave, to lay himself open to her and accept the consequences ... ready to take the leap. "–I want you to be happy." Not a leap. Not even a stride forward. A baby step. Pathetic. He looked down Rose's line of sight. "What are you looking at so intently?"

"Looking for London. Is it still there?"

"Yes. Miss it?"

Rose squeezed the Doctor's hand. "I hear from Nestene consciousnesses, Autons, and Slitheen it's a nice place to visit."

"Yes, though being a highly sought-after tourist spot can be a bit of a headache." The Doctor placed a light quick kiss on Rose's neck just above her shoulder then nuzzled into it contentedly, inhaling her warmth and fragrance. "Last time it took Adam a bit to come to, didn't it?"

"A good seventeen minutes." Rose giggled. "But only because I finally got tired of being gentle."

"Rose Tyler," the Doctor chuckled against Rose's neck. He kissed her again, his lips soft and lingering.

Rose felt the Doctor's denin-clad leg rub against the back of hers. The slide of rough cool denim over her warm skin was enough to make her heart speed up. His knee wiggled under her skirt, insinuated itself between her thighs, and pushed her up onto her toes in playful suggestion. Rose steadied herself, palms against the viewing window, and pressed back against him, answering him with parted legs. She grinned, certain that the hum of the sonic screwdriver meant some surveillance cameras had just gone down.

She waited for the sound of the Doctor's zipper being lowered, the anticipation of the hum of metal teeth sliding through their tab all she needed to get her damp. There was no zipping sound, no jolt of uncomfortable metal teeth against her naked warmth; just some wriggling and re-angling of bodies, and then the sudden insistent presence of the Doctor's turgid erection at her entrance.

Instantly Rose was so slick that she would have drenched her knickers if she'd been wearing any. Rising up onto her toes, she pushed back and slid effortlessly onto his velvet-on-steel cock. She wiggled–for no other reason than it felt amazing, to feel him inside her–and felt the Doctor's response all the way into her fingertips and toes. Giving herself up to sensation, Rose didn't even try to keep herself quiet, just keep the moans and sighs (and one moment of semi-babbling) below the threshold of impropriety (whatever that was) as he began to adjust and angle himself inside her, and she might have succeeded if the blighter had only kept both hands on her waist.

"Guess you approve of button flies." The Doctor chuckled again, his breath a volley of cool fire across Rose's cheek and neck, and a new wave of her desire engulfed him. Rose tipped her head back and nipped his jaw. His pelvis jolted against her, pushing his cock deeper. Rose's walls clenched around him. His head listed back, mouth drifting open, eyes closing, higher thought kind of useless to him against the tide of rapture and Rose. He could stay like this until the universe ended–wrapped around Rose, in Rose, riding waves of turbulence that he was learning always brought him a transcendent kind of peace. He pulled out. Then he inched back in.

He knew Rose so well now, knew what she needed, what made her moan, what made her scream, knew how to make it different, unexpected and surprising, and still make it right, make it fantastic.

The Doctor took Rose slowly, his cock enunciating every phrase, every syllable, every letter of his inexhaustible desire. Need and pleasure spiralled together, keeping Rose breathless and dizzy and whimpering for him. He slid two long fingers into her mouth, teasing the surface of her tongue, then eased them out, caressing her palate as he did. In again…further in, almost bumping up against the back of her soft palate; out… stroking her teeth, pulling her lower lip beguilingly. Slow and deep again; teasing slowly back. Locking her lips around his fingers, Rose riffed on the Doctor's rhythm. Her tongue was wicked talented. He got a little noisy.

Slow and full and deep and thick and firm, Rose's mouth, Rose's depths; breathless, moaning together, names whispered with sobs and loving obscenities; Earth preening naked and magnificent before them. Adam, still passed out, missed it all.

 

~~

 

The lift doors closed, and the Doctor and Rose started their ascent to Floor 500. They'd been told the walls were made of gold. With their track record, they were half expecting to find matching chains and manacles securing the joyful promoted to said walls, and perhaps a gold-plated killer gizmo or two running amok. But that was a long, long way up and the lift was slow…

"Five hundred floors, Rose Tyler." The Doctor waggled his eyebrows at her. "How far did you get in the _Time Traveler's Kama Sutra_?"

"Not that far. 'Sides, there's not enough time for me to get in and out of a different position for every floor anyway."

"Time Lord me, Rose Tyler–I keep telling you. I can slow time down, I can speed it up. I can wrap it around us." The Doctor's hand slipped under the hem of Rose's skirt and his long, cool fingers whispered to her warm skin of imminent seduction. Rose's breath hitched and the Doctor smiled darkly. "I can make time caress you, Rose, like a long, excruciatingly thorough, slowly tantalizing tongue. What I can do with time, Rose Tyler–" He whispered into her ear, nibbling where his fancy took him. "–will thrill you even more than what I do with space."

Maybe the Doctor did something to time like he'd boasted; each moment of their lovemaking stretched out like salt water taffy, lingering as the next grew out of it. Maybe it was just what he did to her that made time stand still and Rose's heart move faster than the elevator.

 

~

 

I take only the best," the Doctor told Adam when he dumped him back at his mum's flat. "I've got Rose."

Before they left him, the Doctor and Rose taunted Adam with sniggering gallows humour and the careless clicking of fingers and thumbs, which opened Adam's head to reveal the type two chip that the greedy, self-serving little git had bought himself. If he was the genius he claimed to be, Adam would not dare show his trick face in public, or suffer certain discovery and dissection.

The Doctor had said it, but Rose knew it wasn't true anymore. She wasn't the best. She had screwed up; she'd trusted Adam with the TARDIS and the fate of civilizations. If it hadn't been for Cathica they might be dead, the TARDIS in the hands (or whatever) of a super-villain, and the Earth forever enslaved.

Rose would gladly take dissection over the end she deserved and was certain she would suffer–the Doctor's disdain and a one-way TARDIS ride to her mum's.

 

~

 

The Doctor and Rose walked to the medbay slowly, side by side but not hand in hand. He eased her clothes off, sat her down, and healed the physiological effects of the Editor's torture. He stripped off his jacket and jumper and sat down for her to take care of what he couldn't reach on himself. As she moved in to fix his shoulder and check out his back, Rose's body slipped between the Doctor's legs. He tensed. "Don't squirm," she admonished, her breath tickling at his ear and throat. His body jerked back. After she finished, she cupped his cheek and brushed her thumb over his lips. He didn't lean into her caress. He always leaned into her caresses.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah. Doctor, I'm so sorry; I didn't think–"

"No, you didn't! Next time you want to pick up a pretty little stray kitten, maybe you'll remember that the TARDIS is a sensitive space and time machine, the last of her kind and irreplaceable, and she deserves better than to be used for a litter box."

"Doctor!"

He sighed. "I'm sorry Rose. I'm tired. Getting too old for this kind of torture."

" _This_ kind?" Rose's voice quivered.

"Yeah. You know: electrocution. Hard on the hearts, doesn't do the body any good either, no matter how new it is." He didn't look at Rose as he clasped her hips and gently moved her back. He stood, went to pick up a spare jumper and his leather jacket.

"Doctor, I'm sorry I'm not the best."

The Doctor looked at Rose, honest confusion on his face. "You are the best, Rose. There's something I have to take care of in the control room, then I'll make dinner. You take a shower and relax."

 

~

 

He had been slow and stupid twice in two days. Slow to realize the extent of the danger they were walking into like a picnic. He had stupidly ignored the threats Van Statten and Adam could be–were, in fact–because _the great Time Lord_ saw one as nothing more than a swaggering and dismissive dickhead single-mindedly in love with himself, and the other as simply a vapid pretty boy in love with himself. If Van Statten had decided to "study" him more, he likely would have been regenerated to his final death, leaving Rose stranded in Utah for the rest of her life, prisoner of the amoral, unscrupulous American.

Rose could have been killed by the Dalek. It was nothing short of a miracle that she wasn't and he kept having to fight the need to drop everything and rush to her, lay her down where she was and take her, needing the taste and feel of her to convince himself she was still there. If it had killed Rose, the Dalek would have had a truly cosmic victory, leaving it the only survivor of the Time War–for without his Rose, even if he somehow didn't die he would never be alive again.

He wouldn't take Rose back to Jackie–he was beyond being able to let her go. But he could give her a _get out of jail free_ card. He seriously considered also leaving a hand-written letter for the TARDIS to give Rose if circumstances kept him from telling her himself all he had wanted to say since he'd looped back and accidentally overheard her outside Henricks when it blew. Overheard her say she loved him.

She hadn't said it to him, _not yet_ , but she _had_ made her declaration out loud. Rose was in love with him! And she wanted him to love her.

Love her? No, he didn't love her. Rose Tyler was the rhythm his hearts beat, the air that stirred his lungs. She flowed through his vessels, sustaining every cell of his body. She was the light that dawned out of the darkest depths of him.

The Doctor unlocked a panel under the Time column and took out the arm he'd ripped off the Auton and given to Rose. He looked at it thoughtfully. A little smile grew, quirking one side of his mouth. If he could see himself at the moment, he wouldn't recognize the face of the survivor who'd traded scorched and bloodied velvet for leather and guilt-wracked pain. He'd see the face of a bloke deeply in love. By the time he put the Auton arm back away, the Doctor had decided against leaving Rose a love letter. He did however write himself a memo not to let pretty boys close to Rose without a thorough vetting.

 

~

 

Rose was still in the shower when the Doctor entered their suite. She was singing a jazzy _Are You Lonesome Tonight_ that belied the melancholy lyrics. Her voice was rich and clear, and she had a stylistic creativity that always made him smile. Rose had a knack for scat and obviously loved it, loved playing with the notes, improvising melody as she was doing now, following a phrase to the precipice and finding somewhere exquisite to take it. She was adventurous and didn't look back. It didn't surprise him. When she moved on to a similarly jazzy _Love me Tender_ , the Doctor vowed to take her to meet Presley.

_"Love me tender - love me true, all... my dreams... fulfilled..."_

The Doctor dropped his clothes and opened the door to the room-sized shower the TARDIS had provided them in their en suite.

_"...for... my darling - I... love you– Doctor!"_

With barely a smirk, the Doctor stepped inside the shower. He took Rose's hand and kissed it. "You _are_ the best, Rose Tyler. Always were, always will be. You always expect good from a person; it's part of what makes you so beautiful. Don't beat yourself up for it because someone turns out to be more the way I expect him to be. Adam chose to do what he did, and what followed from it was his fault. Maybe one day he'll learn to take responsibility for his actions. I don't really think he will; I don't really care. Sing some more Presley?"

Rose nodded and started singing again. _"For my darling, I love you, and I always will."_ Humming the melody, she pulled the Doctor into her arms, laid her head over one of his hearts, and wrapped the fingers of her left hand through the fingers of his right, where they always belonged. Her singing became Bluesier and smoky–Torchy, her mum and grandma would call it–as Rose played with the melody. Her body moved rhythmically, hips and legs and breasts swaying erotically against the Doctor's as she crooned. _"Love me tender, love me long, take me to your hearts, for it's there that I belong, and we'll never part."_

The Doctor thought he might just burst from wanting to tell Rose she wasn't merely in his hearts... she was his hearts. He raised their clasped hands above Rose's head and guided her into a slow turn. Her eyes sparkled as she smiled up at him and he, besotted fool that he was, could only grin back. As she completed the turn, he pulled her back to him and two-stepped them to the large pillowed bench. He sat down and held her slowly undulating body between his legs.

_"Love me tender - love me dear, tell me you are mine, I'll be... yours... through all the years, 'til the end of time."_

As she swayed, water dripped off Rose's long blonde waves and trickled over the gently rounded slopes of her breasts. The Doctor watched tiny droplets tumble off her nipples. A drop landed on his halfway-hard member, and though the force of impact was negligible he found himself responding violently.

_"...When at last my dreams come true, darling this I know, happiness will follow you, everywhere you go–"_

Wrapping his hands around Rose's waist, the Doctor lifted her onto him.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

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